Okay, so I've decided that I need a beta reader, because I take way too long proofreading my stories. Seriously, it only takes me a few days to write a story, but I'm never satisfied after that. I change it and change it, then proofread it, then change it some more. 99% of the time I take making my stories is proofreading. So maybe having an outside opinion would be less biased, and I wouldn't be too worried that my stories suck.
So if you want to be beta reader or something, let me know via review or pm or whatever. That's pretty much it.
Sorry for being completely useless at updating regularly
Zia sniffled, but shuffled up closer, resting her chin on her hands. It looked like I was doing a good job in making her forget about the last portion of the story.
Smiling fondly at her familiar actions, I drummed my fingers on the cane in my hands. "The Kid is rather contradictory, don't you think? He knows the value of life, yet he never seems to have a problem taking it. He is a rather gentle soul, and yet he fights with a ferocity never seen by anyone in the history of Caelondia. He respects The Gods, but has invoked them on various occasions, with disastrous results."
I took a deep breath, noticing Zia nodding slowly beside me. "Well, he learnt all that in the moments I'm about to tell you about. This was during his third year out of five on The Walls, over halfway through his shift, and still going strong, with Wyatt by his side throughout their trials."
Zia's eyes widened in recognition of the name, but didn't interrupt. Zulf's tent shifted in the wind, and I could have sworn that I saw a figure standing in the shadows.
Dismissing it as a trick of the light, I continued with the story.
"Well, the opening to this chapter begins with a rather unruly bar-fight…"
The Kid and Wyatt were relaxing after a week of continuous work, when a group of people had walked over and started insulting The Kid.
It was the usual stuff, and The Kid wasn't too bothered as long as he had a friend like Wyatt by his side.
The leader of the group jeered at the pair. "Ignoring me, Kid? I'm not surprised. I never expected a child like you to have any manners!"
Wyatt, jumped up at the word, squaring up to the speaker. The Kid hated that word, so it was the only thing Wyatt couldn't tolerate.
"Call him a child again, and I'll dislocate your jaw." Wyatt said with a matter-of-fact tone. He seemed almost bored of the confrontation.
The man sneered down at Wyatt, opening his mouth with a cocky grin. "Chil-UGH!" Wyatt swung his fist with precision into the man's mouth without hesitation. The audible crack of bone echoed around the bar, silencing the patrons.
Now, you might not know this Zia, but in bars, especially at locations like The Walls, it is extremely easy to start an all-out brawl.
Many different Factions congregate on areas such as that, and emotions are always high after a hard day's work. All it ever takes is for one small spark to light the fire.
As soon as Wyatt had smacked the person in front of him to the floor, everyone in the bar stood up simultaneously, looking around the room in anticipation.
The bartender started to put away the more expensive liquors.
Slowly, each of the factions picked a side, and Wyatt realised his mistake.
The man that he had struck down was a Graver. The enforcers of The Authorities.
Wyatt swore harshly.
Stood behind the Gravers were the more 'elite' factions. Brushers, Triggers, Slingers and Mancers. These were the groups that didn't get their hands dirty on a daily basis, and so generally thought themselves better than the less prestigious factions, who were backing The Masons. Trappers, Cinders, Skippers and Breakers held the ground behind The Kid and Wyatt.
Anyone might have thought that The Masons and their allies were out-matched, but they weren't going to back down easily. The Rippling Walls were their turf, and they weren't going to go down without a fight.
The Kid rolled his neck as he stood by Wyatt, glaring up at him.
"Shut up. It's not my fault!"
The Kid just shook his head, squaring off against The Gravers. Wyatt caught the silent meaning.
I didn't say anything!
Wyatt shouted at him as the fight begun. "YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN!"
Stomping on the foot of the first person to attack him, The Kid sighed.
Wyatt just couldn't keep himself in line. It always got them in trouble.
Well, at least he got some dinner-time entertainment.
10 minutes later, a body went flying through the air and hit the bar, sliding across the polished surface, pushing glasses onto the floor where they smashed, as the victim slid over them. Eventually, the figure stopped just short of the edge of the bar-top. A few more centimetres, and he would have fallen off the end of the counter.
Groaning in pain, The Kid pushed himself up gingerly, brushing his back for any stray glass. After shaking a few pieces out of the folds in his clothes, The Kid leaped off the bar, landing on unsteady feet.
Looking around urgently, the boy tried to locate the mountain of a man that had just picked him up like a rag-doll and thrown him half-way across the room. The Kid found him and several others all congregated around Wyatt, beating him into a pulp in the corner of the room.
Growling, The Kid charged back into the fray. Grabbing a delirious Trigger swinging violently at nothing, the young Mason grabbed a tankard from a nearby table and smashed it against the man's head, denting the metal.
His opponent now dazed, The Kid took the chance to pick him up, straining his muscles with effort. Even though he was now 13, The Kid still had limited upper-body strength, despite any amount of exercise he did. He was lucky that the man he was holding seemed to be missing a few meals.
Exerting as much power as he could, The Kid lifted the drunkard to shoulder height. Holding him there for a spell, The Kid threw him down with the aid of gravity, straight into a nearby table, knocking him out cold.
Ignoring his aching muscles, The Kid turned around to watch Wyatt getting pummelled at the perimeter of the bar by three Gravers. Cracking his knuckles, The Kid entertained the idea of letting the man fend for himself. The older Mason had got them into this mess, after all.
The brawl had been a brutal fight, and there were only a few people from each faction left.
The Trappers only had a woman left standing, dancing around and tripping up a Brusher. The lady, a mischievous girl named Jane, vaulted over the Brusher's wide swing, laughing, tapping him innocently on the back.
Grinning at The Kid, Jane ducked at weaved around the brushers attacks, and called over to her sister Mia, a Cinder.
"Hey, sis! How're things going over there? Mancers can be a tricky bunch!"
Mia rolled her eyes, watching the Mancer opposite her somehow create a miniature flamethrower from the materials around her. The Kid stepped forward to help, but Mia shrugged in apathy at the flames, walking through them towards her opponent. As a Cinder, she was blessed by The Pantheon with an extra resistance to heat, and the flames licked at her body harmlessly.
Reaching the unbelieving Mancer, Mia ripped the weapon from her adversary's hands, whacking her over the head with it. After prodding the woman to make sure she was unconscious, Mia looked incredulously at The Kid.
"Fire? Against a Cinder? I thought Mancers were supposed to be smart!"
The Kid shrugged, looking back over to Jane to see her smashing the brusher's head repeatedly into the wall, cracking the plaster. After the man crumpled to the ground, Jane gestured over to Wyatt, who was defending valiantly against the Gravers pummelling him.
"You think we should help him?"
The Kid was planning to respond to the affirmative, when Wyatt threw The Gravers off him fiercely. Kneeing one in the gut, and sending the other skittering across the floor with a kick, Wyatt stalked up to his last attacker, the man who had insulted The Kid in the first place.
Curling his hand into a fist, the Wyatt smashed it into the man's already dislocated jaw, making him reel from the pain. Dragging the now dazed Graver across the body-strewn floor, Wyatt hurled him at the entrance to the bar, smashing the wooden door into splinters as sunlight streamed onto the groaning figures covering the ground.
Glancing over to them, he pulled a face. "Thanks for the assist." he said sarcastically.
Mia gestured to the Gravers surrounding him. "You seemed to be doing alright."
Joining the other 3 left standing, Wyatt gave The Kid a fist-bump, throwing an arm around Mia's neck. Raising an eyebrow, Mia trailed a finger down Wyatt's arm, then lightly tapped him on the small of his back.
Jumping at the touch, Wyatt withdrew his arm with a half-smile.
"Yeah, I know, we're still on the clock. But we'll make up for it later, won't we?" he winked at her, stretching.
Jane nudged The Kid in the side meaningfully, letting out a puff of air in amusement. Letting out a lopsided grin, The Kid tickled her side in retaliation, causing Jane to giggle in protest.
"Well, I'm glad at least someone finds this amusing, because I can assure you, I do not."
The quartet froze in dread, turning towards the gravelly voice, to find Marshal Temper and his deputies shadowing the doorstep.
Almost as if they had rehearsed it beforehand, the sisters stepped away from the boys, and pointed at them in unison.
"It was their fault!"
"Do you even know the amount of damage you caused!?" Temper paced back and forth across the courtyard in front of the barracks, shouting at the top of his lungs.
"The Menders are going to have their work cut out getting all of those people back on their feet as quick as possible!" Striding forward, the Marshal jabbed a finger into Wyatt's chest.
"You just caused The City to lose some of its essential workforce! Everyone is already on edge due to the upcoming anniversary of the start of The War…" He rubbed his hands over his face, groaning almost inaudibly through them.
"This is going to make it even harder to contain any commotion…"
Temper glanced at the four perpetrators of his increased paperwork. It was going to be another sleepless night.
"Okay." Temper pinched the bridge of his nose, breathing out slowly.
"You ladies." The Head Marshal pointed to Mia and Jane.
"According to you two, none of this mess was your fault…" Temper tapped his feet quickly, coming to a decision. "I don't believe you, but I really don't care anymore. Don't get into any more trouble. I don't want to see you again, do you understand?"
The sisters kept their gazed fixed forward, but with smirks on their faces, they chanted out a response.
"YESSIR!"
Temper waved a hand sharply. "Good. Dismissed. Get out of my sight before I change my mind."
Wyatt broke his silence at the ruling. "But Temper-"
Baring his teeth, The Marshal pointed at Wyatt in displeasure. "Watch your mouth, Mason! You and The Kid have a lot to answer for."
Falling into silence alongside The Kid, the brothers in arms watched Mia and Jane turn around at the gate to the barracks, sticking out their tongues.
The Kid let out a low grumble. What were they? 6 years old?
Snapping their attention back to Temper at the bark of his voice, the two Masons awaited their punishment.
Knocking his Scrap musket against his leg, Temper's shoulders slumped. "Okay, I'm going to level with you two. I was going to force you to wash out the barracks and showers, but… I need a favour."
The Marshal grinned without humour. "Lucky for me, you two now owe me one."
Beckoning with his hand, Temper strode back towards his office, swinging the wide door open. "Come on, I want to show you something."
Following him into his station, the Masons shifted uneasily at the plethora of weapons and equipment covering the map table. Gesturing to the horde, Temper spoke quickly. "What do you think this is, boys?"
Shrugging, The Kid let his eyes drift over the materials. They were very high grade, that was certain. The gleam and finish on the blades and armour showed the expert craftsmanship of a high-level Cinder. This type of equipment could only be found inside the Grand Armoury, a few leagues to the west.
But what was it doing here?
Approaching the map, The Kid noticed a dagger piercing a drawing of the Grand armoury, a dotted line leading from it towards a red X marking a point within the outer City limits.
Obviously not expecting an answer, Temper grasped the handle of the dagger, wrenching it out of the map, starting to play with the blade.
"This is a haul of weaponry found in an abandoned factory in the outer city. They've been stolen by an unknown group every night since a week ago, from The Grand Armoury. And this is only a fraction of what was stolen. We don't know where the rest is."
Wyatt furrowed his brow, scratching his neck. "Okay, so… why do you need us? Just get The Gravers and your Marshals to flush the culprits out, and the mystery's solved, right?"
Temper growled slowly, raking his hand across his jaw, scratching his stubble. "The Gravers report directly to The Authorities. I don't want them to know about this. I don't trust them, certainly not this close to the war's anniversary..."
He stood in front of a pin board, full with pictures and news clippings. "I have good intel that they've been looking for a reason to finish off the Ura, and they'd just use this as so-called evidence that the Ura are still a threat."
The Head Marshal traced a string that connected The Mayor to a Grim-faced Ura Mancer, lost in thought.
"There's something sinister going on, boys. I try to reach out and grab at it every time I come across it, but it always seems to be able to…" He clenched his fist. "Slip through my fingers. Almost as if they know my every move…"
He cleared his throat, turning back to them. "If they don't know about it, the damn bureaucrats won't try and take the situation off my hands. I've had enough of their fear-mongering over the Ura."
In a rage that complimented his name, Temper punched the wall next to him, cracking the stone and sending rubble flying. "I won't let them create anarchy! The peace and protection of The City is MY jurisdiction, not theirs!"
Backing up rapidly beside The Kid at the spectacle, Wyatt held up his hands in a placating manner.
"Sure thing chief! You know we're up for anything that gives the finger to The Gravers! Just tell us what we can do to help."
Calming himself, The Marshal moved over to the map, tracing the lines. "I need to find these criminals before they do something drastic. They've been planning something big, and I need them caught."
He indicated a Lost and Found building sitting opposite the Grand Armoury. "You two are going to be staking out The Armoury from this location. The Lost and Found is taller than The Armoury, so you should be able to get a clear birds-eye view of the area. I want you to watch and see if anyone enters or exits the building over the weekend. I'll be closing off the Armoury for the weekend, so there shouldn't be anyone trying to get in there. If you do see anyone entering, anyone at all, you tail them, and find where their base is. Do not engage."
Temper looked at Wyatt intensely, who had just opened his mouth in protest, but Temper cut him off. "We don't know what they're capable of, and the last thing I need is two dead idiots to clean up after."
Wyatt closed his mouth reluctantly, muttering darkly under his breath, causing Temper to narrow his eyes and raise his voice.
"What was that Wyatt? Something you'd like to tell me?"
Jumping at the chance, Wyatt burst in annoyance. "Temper, the whole weekend? Take pity on us! I had plans for the next few days!"
The Marshal grinned sadistically. "Ah, with Mia, right? You know, Wyatt, maybe you should have thought of that before you started a bar brawl, don't you think?"
Wyatt's jaw tightened at the mention of the female Cinder, but kept quiet.
"This is an undercover mission. I don't know if I have a mole in my command, so if either of you speaks a word…" Temper glanced at The Kid, and snorted in disbelief.
"I'll send both her and her sister back to The Forges, do I make myself clear?" The two Masons winced in memory of the western Walls, the smell of ash and burnt feathers filling their memories.
They nudged each other out of the recollection to see Temper twirling the dagger hypnotically within his hands. The Marshal, irritated with their lack of response, flung the dagger into the wall behind the Masons, leaving it quivering, embedded within the stone.
"I SAID, DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?" he roared.
The pair saluted quickly, Wyatt shouting "YESSIR" while The Kid nodded vigorously.
Satisfied, Temper fell back into his chair. "Gather your things. You'll need to set off immediately."
"Don't worry Temper, we won't let you down. You'll see! Up top!" Wyatt held his hand up for a high five, grinning like a fool.
Reluctantly, Temper slapped the hand with a scowl on his face, glaring at Wyatt when he repositioned his hand.
"Down low!"
"Get out the hell out of my office."
The Kid scaled the stairs of the Lost and Found nimbly, jumping two steps at a time with Wyatt on his heels, grumbling something about having to sleep alone. Reaching the top, The Kid started to set up their supplies quickly, while Wyatt surveyed the area, getting a sense of the topography.
He whistled low, and glanced back at The Kid putting up a rain cover. "Have you ever been up this high? I never knew the Lost and Found was this tall!"
The Kid shook his head, tilting his arm up and down in meaning. "Yeah, I guess it is all about perspective. Things always look small till you see them up close."
That was one of the greatest things about their friendship. Wyatt could read The Kid like no other, interpreting meaning and words from the simplest of looks.
Wyatt smirked, and continued. "A bit like you, I guess. Even if you're still a pipsqueak."
The Kid groaned, and threw a chair at him quickly, which Wyatt caught deftly and set down on the roof with a barely concealed grin. "Now, now, Kid, no need for violence! I expected better from a stoic such as you!"
The Kid dismissed his friends teasing, and fell heavily into his chair, gesturing to the sun, which was dipping low in the sky. Rubbing a hand over his face, Wyatt glanced at the waning light, then the Grand Armoury.
Relaxing next to The Kid, the older mason looked longingly over to the barracks, where warm beds waited for them in futility.
"It's going to be a long weekend, brother. I can feel it."
It was Sunday afternoon, and the two look-outs were in a heated argument, cautious over their next move.
"Look, Kid, all I'm saying is that if we push the position now, they won't have more time to amass their forces, and we could catch them off guard!"
The Kid gave Wyatt a deadpan look, and shot him in the head with a finger-gun.
"Yeah, I know there'll probably be casualties, but we'd get casualties anyway, right? Sacrifices have to be made!"
The younger boy groaned, rubbed the bandage around his hand in thought, and then pointed a finger at his friend's chest.
"Me? No, I don't want to die!" He looked at The Kid's disbelieving face, and tried to regain his trust hastily.
"It's not that I think their lives are worth less than mine, it's just…" This was a hard decision, and it could cost them everything if they got it wrong.
They couldn't afford to fail.
Looking warily at The Kid, he brought out his last ditch attempt to persuade him.
Pushing out his arm, with his hand held up, Wyatt spoke confidently.
"Brothers?"
The Kid rolled his eyes at the underhanded tactic, but grudgingly clasped Wyatt's outstretched arm and hand.
Till the very end.
Grinning, Wyatt pushed all of their character pieces on the board forward 5 spaces, engaging them in combat with the figurine army assembled there.
They were playing a role-playing game called "Gremlins and Grottos", and as far as The Kid was concerned, they had just doomed themselves to failure. The Gremlins they were facing were too powerful to be facing without the proper levelling up.
Resigning himself to his characters death, The Kid pushed himself up from his seat and walked over to the cooler where they kept their supplies, opening the box and retrieving a flask of water.
Looking up at his friend's movements, Wyatt called to him over the fictional battle that was occurring. "Hey, can you get me some water as well?"
Snorting at his laziness, The Kid shook his head.
"Why not?! Here I am, saving fictional lands from an unspeakable evil, and you can't even be bothering picking up some water from right next to you!"
Smirking, The Kid took a long and slow drink from his flask, trickling the water into his mouth in front of Wyatt, torturing him.
"Aw, come on! You're killing me here! What if I pass out from thirst? If I die, who's going to save your ass every time you screw up?"
The Kid grinned mischievously, and starting kissing the air passionately in mimicry.
"Mia? I'm pretty sure my girlfriend would be more focused on her sister than you." The Kid cocked an eyebrow, and waved his hand vaguely.
"How is it going with her? If I'm being honest, I don't really know. After I saved her from the peckers in The Forges, I asked her out, and we've been dating ever since. But she keeps on trying to make it more and more serious. I don't know, man, I just want to have fun; I'm 21 for Jevel's sake! And that's not even to mention that she doesn't interact with me when we're working. I mean, I get it, she wants to keep her work and personal life separate, but it hurts when she shrugs me off."
Taking pity on him, The Kid threw the man a flask of water, which he snatched out of the air.
"Thanks. I guess I should just be happy that she and her sister got transferred with us when we moved here…" The Kid folded himself into a sitting position in front of the board, casting a healing spell on Wyatt's character as he used Charm on a group of enemies.
Tapping his heart, The Kid glanced at his brother-in-arms meaningfully. "Do I love her? Yeah, guess I do, but that doesn't mean…" Wyatt stopped, staring at The Kid's amused expression.
"You knew? How?"
The Kid waggled his eyebrows suggestively, tapping his ear, making Wyatt blush and stutter.
"Y-Y-You could hear us? I mean, I know we were in the dormitory, but we always thought you were asleep! How did you hear us through the walls?"
The Kid doubled over laughing at his discomfort. Wyatt was stammering and scratching his neck nervously.
"Okay, I admit, I might have said some things in the heat of the moment... but she didn't take them seriously!"
The Kid sniggered, and tapped his ring finger innocently. "Hey, I asked her that one time! And I was drunk and delirious at the time! She'd just shown me the time of my life!"
Gagging, The Kid made a disgusted face and shook his head violently, trying to rid himself of the images.
"Why are we always talking about my love life, anyway? What's going on with you and Jane?" Wyatt nudged The Kid in the ribs teasingly, casing the boy to push him away playfully. "Do you have a crush on her, by any chance?"
The Kid cracked a smile at the older mason's attempts to rile him up. It wasn't going to work. "Oh, but I forgot, you're in love with someone else, aren't you? What was her name again? Nacie?"
The Kid stiffened, and glared at the victorious grin that Wyatt was sporting.
Okay, so maybe it would work.
"You know Kid, I never understood why you never asked her out. Were you too scared?"
The Kid growled deep in his throat. I don't get scared.
Wyatt chuckled at the sound, continuing. "Oh really? Because all I'm doing is stating observations. You liked her. She liked you. So why not- Whoa!"
Wyatt nimbly side-stepped a goblin figurine that was aimed at his head, and repositioned himself next to The Kid, patting his shoulder. "Now we're even in terms of teasing, huh?"
The Kid sighed in agreement, reminiscing. He didn't even have time to say goodbye to her when he left for The Walls, he was in too much of a rush. She deserved better than that, better than him. He had failed her, he had failed the promise they made to each other.
Wyatt shook his shoulder, bringing him out of his thoughts. "Hey, you never know, you could set it right when we finish our shift on The Walls! A happily ever after, who doesn't like those?"
They both looked over the view absentmindedly, when they simultaneously observed a cloaked figure jumping into a skylight on the roof of the Grand armoury.
Pointing at him, Wyatt chuckled. "I'm going to take a wild guess and say that guy doesn't like them. Stealing the hard work of other people, how despicable!"
Wyatt grinned and jumped up, leaning over the edge of the platform they were situated on.
"Looks like we've found our man! Let's go and catch him!"
Noticing a lack of movement from The Kid, Wyatt looked back and beckoned him over with a hand. "We'll miss our window if we don't move now. Are you coming or not?"
The Kid scrunched up his eyebrows, frowning at his friend. We were told to tail him, not catch him.
Wyatt groaned. "And when have we ever done what we were told?"
The older man looked over The Kid, and let out a puff of air.
"Well, okay then, when have I ever done what I was told? And let's be honest, you're going to follow me anyway." Crooking an eyebrow, Wyatt held out his hand for The Kid to grasp.
"Brothers stick together, after all."
The Kid looked over to the armoury, and saw the skylight glinting as the Ura thief closed the window partially after him.
Gripping Wyatt's arm firmly and pulling himself up, The Kid nodded his head.
Till the very end.
Cracking a smile, Wyatt vaulted over the side of the building towards the street below.
Trailing after Wyatt reluctantly, The Kid scuffed the ground beneath his feet, grumbling. Wyatt was going to get them both confined to the barracks for at least a year!
Though, reviewing the situation, the older mason was right. There was no way that they would be able to keep up with an Ura insurgent in this mess of buildings. The Ura were notorious for being fast and nimble on their feet. There were even stories of particular individuals being able to teleport short distances.
If they caught the Ura, however, they would be allowed to question them and gain much more information, meaning their weekend of boredom wouldn't all be for nothing. The sound of a third set of footsteps approaching caused The Kid to look up, brow creased in worry.
It was a Graver. Damn.
The official had already noticed Wyatt, but The Kid, with a smaller form, was hidden from his view by Wyatt's larger frame. Wyatt growled, and signalled to The Kid to hide.
Ducking into an alleyway, the boy surveyed the scene with baited breath.
"What are you doing here? This area is closed off, Head Marshal's orders! You can't be here!"
The Kid crept around the side of the building separating him from the Graver. He needed to get behind the man and knock him out before the thief in the Armoury got away.
Dashing silently across the street behind the official, The Kid crouched behind a box of army carbines waiting to be shipped into the armoury, and hefted his Life-long friend from his back.
Wyatt, spotting The Kid in position to strike, attempted to distract the target.
"I, uh, I didn't know that, I, uh, I think I'm lost. Uhh… do you know where I am by any chance?"
The Graver didn't buy his excuse for one second. Taking a step back, the guard narrowed his eyes.
"You're carrying a Cael hammer. You're a Mason, aren't you?!" The Kid quickened his pace towards the Graver, scampering across the cobblestone street. If he didn't get there soon, things could get ugly.
The guard snarled at Wyatt, spitting in his face. "You low-lifes always think that just because this is your turf, you can do what you want. But I'll tell you what, freak. Us Gravers are going to take over your stupid jobs sooner or later. You're redundant now. The War is over, and the Ura are as good as finished. The Wall doesn't need to be maintained anymore."
The official grinned sadistically. "You Masons hurt my friends in that bar fight recently. Let me show you what we Gravers do to our enemies."
Hearing the Graver crack his knuckles, The Kid rushed the rest of the distance, lifting his hammer over his head for a Stunning Wallop. The Graver turned around in a spin, and grabbed The Kid by the throat, lifting him up off the ground with one arm.
Choking the boy, The Graver brought the younger mason's face close to his own. "You think I didn't notice you, child? Gravers know to be aware of their surroundings. It's just like a Mason to resort to such cowardly tactics to win."
Taking advantage of the distraction, Wyatt wrapped one arm around the Gravers throat in a flash, held his head still with the other arm, and whispered into his ear.
"If we're giving out fighting tips, how about this one: Don't turn your back on your opponent." The Graver released The Kid, scrabbling at Wyatt's chokehold and attempting to release the pressure.
Seizing the chance, The Kid surged forward, pinching the guard's nose and covering his mouth, so that he couldn't take in any more air. Silently watching the official fall into unconsciousness, Wyatt and The Kid grinned at each other. A flawless team. Eventually, the graver stopped moving, and the two of them let the man slump to floor.
Wyatt grimaced, kicking some dust over the unconscious body, and turned around quickly. "Who knows how much time that cost us! Forget the Graver, we have to stop that thief!"
Sprinting toward the armoury, Wyatt hoisted his Hammer from the harness on his back, and smashed it into the metal door that was the entrance to the building. A deafening boom rang through the air, but the attack hadn't made a dent.
Wyatt cursed The Gods, looking around for another entrance frantically. Seeing a window high up the front wall, The Kid gestured to it, causing Wyatt to pull a face.
"No time to be subtle."
Swinging his hammer around in a circle, Wyatt flung it through the window in a crash, shattering the glass and causing a cacophony of noise as the weapon hit various metal objects in quick succession.
Wincing at the sound, Wyatt interlocked his hands, and put his back against the wall beneath the now broken window. "Come on, get in there and open the door! He's going to want to scarper as soon as possible after hearing that!"
Running quickly at Wyatt, The Kid jumped up and placed a foot in his palm, which Wyatt then lifted up swiftly, launching The Kid into the air.
If it were an adult, Wyatt would not have been able to throw them up as far as needed. But The Kid was young, and was much lighter than the average man.
The force of the throw sent The Kid hurtling skywards, and directly through the smashed window, a shard of the glass catching on the boy's tunic, ripping the side thinly and narrowly missing The Kid's stomach. Tucking into a roll at the close call, the younger mason crashed face first into a box of shell casings.
It looked like skyway jumps weren't the only thing he was spectacularly bad at landing from.
Spitting a cartridge from his mouth, The Kid pulled himself out of the crate, spilling onto the floor in front of Wyatt's Cael Hammer. Pushing himself up, the boy ruffled his hair, picked up the hammer, and jogged over to the front door, opening it wide.
Rushing in, Wyatt took his hammer and strapped it to his back, looking over to The Kid in question.
The boy shook his head. No sign of him.
Wyatt looked around and spotted the skylight that the insurgent had entered though. There was still a rope dangling freely from it. "Well, he hasn't left, at least. But he must have heard us, so stay on guard."
The Kid growled at the coddling. Like he needed to be told how to do his job.
The duo creeped around the shadowed piles of weapons lining the armoury, glancing around warily.
The winds from the open skylight whispered around them, blowing softly in their ears so that they turned quickly at the sound.
The shadows behind the shelves danced and glimmered within the rays of sunlight beaming down.
The Kid held his hand up to shade his eyes and hopefully get a better look at the movement. An Ura was no regular opponent. They were an elite war force that could bring entire platoons to their knees with mere halberds and crossbows. Even one thief was sure to give the 2 brothers more than a fair fight.
Footsteps flitted across the floor to the right of them, and the masons snapped their heads to the noise quickly, listening intently.
Nothing.
A weapon scraped against the ground lightly behind them.
They twisted around frantically, weapons ready.
Silence.
The Kid heard delicate breathing in his ear, as a wet nail scratched along his neck.
Growling, The Kid swung around wildly, hitting nothing but a gust of air left in the wake of the Ura's movements.
Colours burst in front of his vision at he tried to track the insurgent's path. The Kid staggered around recklessly, leaning heavily against the shelves lining the row they were walking down.
"Kid! Hey, Kid! What the hell are you doing?" Wyatt's voice seemed so far away, muted, like hearing someone through a wall.
Wha-What's happening to me? The Kid held his head tightly to try and slow the spinning, and felt blood trickle down his collar from where he was scratched by the insurgent's fingernail.
Dabbing a finger to it and bringing it in front of his increasingly delirious vision, The Kid choked on his breath and held the drop up to Wyatt, who commented in low tones.
"Venom."
The Kid nodded up at him in agreement, only for the light spilling into the warehouse to explode throughout his eyesight, blinding him. The Kid fell directly into a shelf, pushing it over and burying him under the metal.
Slowly, the younger mason regained his sight, and looked on helplessly as the scene unfolding before him. Wyatt's face took up most of his view, shouting something to him. His brother's face seemed blurred, and the whole world was vibrating at unfathomable speeds behind him, making it hard to focus on anything at all.
"–p –ow –ease –id!" Wyatt's voice reverberated through the air, but The Kid couldn't distinguish the words from the rushing in his ears.
The gloom behind Wyatt flickered, and a shadow slithered up behind him, a knife whirling in its palm. The Kid tried to speak, to point to the danger, but nothing happened.
The Ura's venom had paralyzed him completely. It took all of his willpower to even keep breathing.
Wyatt, luckily, noticed The Kid's fixation on something behind him, and turned around quickly with his hammer drawn just in time to block a blow from the blade.
Pushing the cloaked figure back with force, Wyatt lunged forward and tackled the Ura into a shelf of Carbine Rifles. Bouncing up with a grin, the Mason called over to The Kid again. This time, The Kid could read his lips clearly.
"Snap out of it!"
If The Kid had the ability to groan, he would have. Paralysis wasn't the easiest thing to just get over.
The shock of the fall was starting to wear off, and The Kid regained control of his senses once more. He could see Wyatt clearly, lifting the Ura up easily above his head, and driving the intruder back down into a suplex. Rolling away from the impact, the thief snarled at Wyatt, clawing at their now-skewed headscarf, throwing the garment to the side.
It was a woman.
Wyatt blinked. "I… was not expecting that."
The thief snapped at him, angry at his inaction. "Now you hesitate to fight? Just because I'm female? Pathetic!" She launched at Wyatt, teeth bared.
Flicking his eyes to The Kid, Wyatt knit his brow. "Are you seeing a weirdly intense person trying to kill me? I'm not just going insane?"
Not waiting for an answer, he grabbed the Ura's forearms before they reached his chest, pulled back his own fist, and punched the insurgent hard in the face, knocking her back into a shelf, which rattled worryingly from the impact.
The woman shrieked at Wyatt, throwing a Gel Canister from the debris on the floor at him, which he dodged promptly, eyes wide. "Lady, you need to CALM DOWN!"
The thief ignored his remark, and grabbed his shirt, dragging him down with her. The two combatants rolled around on the floor in a stalemate, giving Wyatt ample time to wind up his opponent.
"Okay, I know I'm irresistible, but this-oof, this kind of touching is scandalous! I just-OW! -just don't think I'm in the mood for some 'grappling' right now, if you know what I mean-argh!"
The woman kicked Wyatt across the floor after the last remark, fuming. The two jumped to their feet, and Wyatt licked a fleck of blood from his lip with a smirk.
"Are you hitting on me?" He winked charmingly at the thief. "I think you are!" Shrugging, he feigned regret. "Alas! I already have a girlfriend. You're too late!"
The insurgent erupted in rage. "I'd never want to be involved with the likes of you! You and your people don't deserve to live on this world! You… You…" She pointed at Wyatt with scorn. "You are a Cancer!"
Wyatt frowned, a grin playing on the edge of his mouth.
"But I'm a Gemini, not Cancer!" He threw back his head in laughter, savouring the look of outrage on his opponents face.
"Do not mock me, Cancer!" She cried out. "I can bring you down without even trying! I know your weakness!"
Wyatt looked at her curiously, eyebrow cocked. "Chocolate cake?"
The Ura squinted at him, baffled. "Umm… no." She tried to regain her bearings. "Your other weakness!"
Scratching his head, Wyatt was the innocent portrayal of a hopeful face. "Romantic comedies?"
Realizing that Wyatt was making a fool of her, the insurgent brought out throwing knifes from the depths of her clothes, flinging them at him quickly.
Weaving in and out of the blades, Wyatt blew a kiss to his assailant.
Grinding her teeth, she taunted him. "Speed won't help you survive!"
Wyatt snickered, and dashed out of her reach. "That's what slow people say!"
"You think that reprehensible sense of humour makes you attractive?" The insurgent kicked Wyatt in the ribs brutally, leaving him gasping for air.
Rubbing his chest, Wyatt quirked his lips. "Well, if that doesn't work, there's always my good looks and my charm."
Dancing around his opponent's ferocious slashes, Wyatt called over to The Kid with a wide smile.
"Hey, do you want to get takeout later?"
The Kid yelled in his mind, trying to tell Wyatt to stop being cocky and focus on the fight, but it was too late.
Taking advantage of Wyatt's momentary diversion, the woman swept his legs from under him, and threw her dagger at his heart. Recovering quickly, the older mason drew his arm up sharply in front of his torso, so that the throwing knife embedded deeply into the flesh of his appendage.
Shouting out in pain, he struck his leg at the Ura's chest, sending her light body flying into the darkness at the end of the aisle. Wrenching the implement out of its wound, Wyatt threw the weapon to the side and limped over to The Kid.
"B-B-Brother." Wyatt's eyes flickered in fear. "You've got to get up-p-p. That dagger must have been coated with… venom."
The Kid's friend struggled to get his words out coherently, shivering at an unnoticeable cold.
"I can feel it seeping through my veins like i-i-ice. So… cold." The two masons widened their eyes in dread as a vicious grunt was heard from the rippling shadows.
Muttering urgently, Wyatt slipped off his harness and hammer, setting them aside.
"Look, Kid, I can't fight her like this, especially with a heavy w-w-weapon. I n-n-need you to get up. I'm about to collapse here. This venom is d-d-dragging me under."
He lurched to the side, and was promptly sick into a stray Trigger helmet.
"Please get up." A single tear formed, freezing into solid ice as it left Wyatt's eye. What was the venom doing to him!?
"I-I don't think I want to die yet." He wiped his mouth on his sleeve, tightening his jaw.
"Not yet."
Staring at the passive form of his younger friend, Wyatt bit the inside of his cheek.
"Kid's these days. Have to do everything…" He fell heavily onto one knee, looking up as the insurgent loped easily out of her hiding place. "…yourself."
The Ura circled Wyatt's teetering form, goading him. "Can you feel it, Cancer? The antibiotic I have gifted you, flowing through your blood? A special recipe I concocted myself, from the elusive Shiverthorn. Soon, the disease of you Caelondians will be cured. You will all be eradicated from this land."
Wyatt threw a wild haymaker, which the thief skirted around with ease.
"I can see my compound doing its work. Can you feel the deadly winter infecting you? Don't you feel sleeeppyyy?" The woman's voice seemed so melodic and inviting. "Wouldn't it be so much easier to just lie down in a warm cocoon and forget about everything, never to wake up?"
Drowsily, Wyatt nodded in agreement, before catching sight of The Kid's immobile form, and slapped himself across the face, his teeth chattering. "NO! No. It's up to me. I have to stop y-y-you…"
Laughing at her victim's plight, the Ura slipped a knapsack off her shoulder and emptied its contents onto a pile of scrap objects. The Caelondians stared in horror at the device that clattered innocently on the scrap heap.
A bomb. An honest to Gods bomb.
The insurgent wasn't here to steal more weapons. She was here to blow the whole block of buildings to Jevel's Tower.
Wyatt swore and stumbled forward urgently, hoping to destroy the contraption before it was armed. The insurgent bounded away from his reach, preparing the machine deftly, then tossed the explosive onto The Kid's chest.
"Do you recognize how futile your struggle is now, Cancer? I'm going to bring this monument to The City's ego down upon your heads." She clenched her hand for added effect. "With 90% of the City's weapons torched, you Caelondians will be unable to protect yourselves from our cleansing."
Watching Wyatt's state deteriorate, the insurgent threw her weapon to the side. "I don't even need the knife."
"If you're not using it, could I… borrow it by any… c-c-chance?"
Wyatt's left eye wasn't working, and his hearing started to become muffled. The colours of the Armoury seemed to mix and swirl, causing the older mason to lurch backwards.
The insurgent chuckled at Wyatt's actions, speaking in low, sultry tones as to lure him into death. "Give in to it, Cancer. You are beaten. You are dying, my bomb is armed, and your partner is paralyzed." Wyatt shook forcibly, his heartbeat halted by artificial frostbite.
"As much as you may try, Cancer, you cannot defy death. It is The Pantheon's will."
The insurgent looked down upon Wyatt as he crumpled onto his knees, his breath frost.
All was lost.
The Ura kicked Wyatt's body so that it rolled over, his head facing her.
"You have failed."
And then, Wyatt's crackling voice spoke out weakly, humour lacing his tone.
"A bit like… your weight loss… program…."
The Kid stared in disbelief as Wyatt struggled to his feet, sniggering. His skin was pale blue, snowflake-like patterns spiralling across his face.
The Kid couldn't comprehend it. How is he surviving, let alone moving?
"Screw death." The Kid heard his friend popping his knuckles, and winced in sympathy. It sounded like ice shattering.
"Screw the bloody Pantheon." Wyatt strode heavily over to the insurgent, leaving ice crystals hanging in the air behind him.
The Ura backed away, astonished. "You can't just get up! You can't still be alive! It's just not possible! You have to be dead! You CAN'T!"
Wyatt grabbed her by the collar and punched her in the gut. "I CAN, and I WILL." Pulling on the back of her hair, so that his mouth was level to her ear, he spoke forcefully.
"I can do whatever I want. I only follow orders that I deem worth following. That's what most people don't understand. I don't give a damn what anyone else says, I do what I want, not what other people want me to do!"
The Kid started to feel his body responding to his commands once again as the venom was worked out of his system, and dragged himself up to his knees. Wyatt slammed the insurgents head onto his knee, causing her brain to hit her skull, knocking her out instantly.
Walking with faltering steps, he let her drop to the floor, moving over to The Kid slowly, arm outstretched.
"Brother… I'm cold. So… cold…"
The Kid boy scooped the bomb off the floor next to him, bringing it over to his friend with effort. The venom was still affecting him.
He looked wide-eyed at Wyatt, hoping to garner some assistance.
I don't know how to disarm a bomb!
Wyatt laid a hand on The Kid's shoulder, speaking with a sleepy voice.
"Do you want to save The City?" The Kid jerked his head in affirmation.
Of course I do!
"Then stop the bomb. Don't listen to logic, don't listen to The Gods. Don't listen to anyone but yourself."
The Kid screwed up his face at the words. A motivational speech wasn't going to help him stop a block of buildings from being wiped off the map. Grimacing, The Kid gestured with his hands frantically.
I can't stop it, I'm not a genius! It's impossible!
Wyatt snorted at the admission on The Kid's face, cracking a smile. "I-I-Impossible? N-N-No… never impossible. Only… Improbable."
He let out a freezing breath, causing light snow to form in the air between their faces, then collapsed completely, his skin turning a deathly white.
Improbable…
Perhaps.
The Kid flicked his eyes to the timer on the explosive.
4 minutes, 48 seconds.
He tried to feel for a pulse on Wyatt's body. It was there. Weak, but still beating.
The Kid examined the area, hoping to find something to help him in his objective. Darting around the piles of debris that had been pushed over in the fight, he came to a stop in front of a wooden rack that had fallen over, dumping its safeguard onto the floor.
A Bullhead Shield.
The clock hands of the bomb ticked innocently out of the corner of his eyes.
3 minutes, 25 seconds.
The Shields were legendary throughout the lands. Impenetrable, and rare beyond belief, they were rumoured to be created from the hide of The Wakeful Bull himself.
If the Kid could potentially lay the Shield over the bomb, the explosive would be neutralized. No matter the power of the detonation, nothing would be able to break through the fabled metal's defence.
The Armoury would be safe, and any attack from the insurgents on The City could be neutralized with its weapons.
Only one problem.
Unless you were standing trial at Bullhead Court, the Shields could only be picked up and used by the worthy. Not even machines or explosions could move them from their positions.
Throughout the decades, many individuals debated how The Wakeful Bull determined who was 'worthy' to wield such an invaluable tool.
What characteristics would one have to express?
Stubborness? A pure heart? Or perhaps the individual merely had to be at peace with themselves?
The Kid didn't know.
The Kid didn't care.
He wasn't any of those things. But he needed that shield.
The clicks of the timer filled his ears.
2 minutes, 8 seconds.
Tugging on the straps of the shield with all his strength, The Kid grunted at the strain.
It wasn't budging.
A godly voice filled his head, snorting in derision at his attempts.
"You are not worthy of my Shield, Silent One. Cease this struggle."
Stamping his feet, The Kid tried again, ignoring Pyth's comments.
"You cannot lift this burden. I will not allow it."
Gritting his teeth, The Kid didn't give up. Caelondia was counting on him!
"The City is of no concern to me. No form of Calamity will sway my will."
The Kid groaned. Wyatt was right. He thought. The Gods are the biggest pile of dungweed ever to exist.
The deity didn't take kindly to that.
"DO NOT INSULT ME, SILENT ONE. MY POWER IS LIMITLESS, I AM ANARCHY AND FURY INCARNATE. I COULD SMITE YOU WITH A THOUGHT, INSOLENT CHILD."
The Kid narrowed his eyes.
Child.
Oh, how he hated that word.
What did Wyatt say? "Don't listen to logic, don't listen to The Gods. Don't listen to anyone but yourself."
Pyth hadn't done anything to help The Kid in the past. Why should he listen to the cranky old bull now?
The Kid didn't care if he wasn't worthy of lifting the shield. He was going to wield it anyway.
He wanted to pick it up, and so he was going to pick it up.
Pyth thundered in his mind. "YOU CANNOT DEFY MY WILL, CHILD! GIVE UP THIS FUTILE ENDEAVOUR. I ORDER IT."
The Kid was finished with taking orders. Everyone thought they could push him around, just because he was young. They thought they could tell him what to do.
Stay in school, don't retaliate to bullies, don't sign up to The Walls, build this structure, guard this, guard that, stand in formation, clean the barracks!
From now on, he only obeyed orders if they were worth his time.
No more submitting to other people's will.
No more.
Digging his heels into the ground, The Kid yanked on the Bullhead Shield with all his might, fighting against The Bull's power.
But The Kid had resolve like no other. He wasn't going to submit to a God.
Tugging and straining, he could feel his tendons tearing. His bones creaked from the strain, cracking under the pressure.
His right shoulder popped, and white-hot pain coursed across The Kid's chest.
His shoulder was dislocated.
He felt his arm fall limp beside him, but he didn't give up.
He could see the timer glaring at him with fierce intensity, mocking his uselessness.
41 seconds.
Tears streaming down his face, The Kid screamed in agony, and ripped the shield from the ground with his remaining hand.
Pyth howled in his mind. "NO! IMPOSSIBLE!"
No, not impossible.
Improbable.
For the first time in history, a mortal had defied a God.
The laws of nature had been broken, and nature wasn't happy it had been thwarted.
Ozone filled the air in an overwhelming stench, and there was an explosion of force, bursting The Kid's eardrums, causing him to careen backwards and trip over Wyatt's unconscious form.
Disorientated and desperate, The Kid flapped his arms around to look for the bomb; only to spot that it too had been thrown back by the blast.
The second hand was 8 ticks from its destination.
Heaving himself up, he dragged the shield across the floor frantically with his working arm, the remains of the venom coursing through his body faltering his steps.
3 seconds.
Surging his arm forward, The Kid threw the shield forward the rest of the way, landing on top of the device neatly, covering it completely.
Always was a crack shot, that boy.
He knees weakened, and The Kid fell onto his back, staring up at the skylight once more.
The ground tremored beneath him as the bomb detonated harmlessly.
He yawned earnestly as his adrenaline wore off. The day had taken its toll on him, and he hissed every time he shifted, his dislocated shoulder twinging in protest.
He and Wyatt had beat up a few Gravers, broken into a government building, fought for their lives under the influence of deadly venom, stopped a conspiracy from destroying Caelondia, caught an insurgent for questioning, and hey, he'd even got a souvenir!
The Kid closed his eyes and snoozed, a smile on his face.
Overall, a pretty good weekend.
To the duo's surprise, Temper was actually pleased with their accomplishments.
After shouting at them for disobeying his direct orders, he eventually agreed wholeheartedly that they did the best for The City with the decisions that they made.
"We have the Insurgent in custody, and while I'd imagine that The Authorities will want to retrieve the prisoner for themselves, I can now confidently tell them that we can handle ourselves, thanks to you two."
The Marshal clasped the two of them on the shoulder. "Have the week off. Mother knows you've earned it."
He dismissed them, and the two masons strolled out of his office leisurely, only to be assaulted by two women. Mia and Jane.
Wyatt spoke with bravado at the sight of them. "The conquering heroes ret-mpphh!"
Mia had rushed up to Wyatt in a flash, and kissed him without hesitation. Surprised by the greeting, Wyatt's eyes grew wide, and his arms flailed aimlessly at his sides.
Eventually pushing her away gently, he coughed awkwardly. "Uh, babe, you do know that we're in public, right?" Mia blushed, but shook her head forcefully. "I don't care who knows anymore. I was so worried about you!"
Catching Wyatt's triumphant grin at her admission, she hardened her gaze. "The Menders said you almost died as a human popsicle. That could only happen to you."
Wyatt responded quickly to her insult. "I could never stay like that. I'm way too hot!"
Laughing at his own joke, Wyatt ignored the rest of the group groaning at his humour, sweeping Mia up into another kiss.
Jane punched The Kid in the arm, grinning from ear to ear. "Word on the street is that you've procured a mythical artefact from your adventure… Can I see it?"
The Kid pulled his prize out of thin air, and held it up for his friend to examine. The Bullhead Shield had the strange property of showing up only when it was summoned. When it wasn't it being used, it seemed to fade into nothing, and couldn't be found anywhere on The Kid's person. He assumed it was merely another ethereal property of the metal.
The Kid watched as Jane attempted to pick up the safeguard from his hands without success. It seemed as if The Kid was the only one capable of lifting it. No one else seemed to be able to defy the Gods as he had.
He could have sworn that he had seen Wyatt shift it around when they were in a Mender's tent together, but his brother had stopped his movements as soon as he saw The Kid looking. When he had asked his friend about it later, Wyatt denied it, and said that the residual venom in his system was probably giving him hallucinations.
The Kid wasn't so sure.
Jane relinquished the shield back to him, and fiddled with a Trappers snare that she had brought out of her pocket.
"So, do you guys want to celebrate our reunion? Me and Mia are just dying to tell you two about our weekend!"
The brothers-in-arms looked at each other in bewilderment, then back at their female companions.
"Olak!" Mia stared at them in wonder. "No one told you yet? Well, have we got a story for you!"
Jane's eyes gleamed, waving her arms around animatedly. "It includes whales and skydiving!"
Mia interjected with excitement. "Ambushes, infiltration!"
"Smoke bombs!"
"Drinking contests!"
The two looked at each other in delight, and cheered together.
"Treasure!"
The Kid raised an eyebrow at their antics, while Wyatt scratched his head in confusion.
"Sounds like you girls have got us beat in the 'Badass story' department" he sighed, slumping in defeat.
Mia patted him on the arm slowly, giggling. "There, there, it'll be okay! Come on, let's go get a drink, and we can swap tales?" She winked at him slyly "And if you need comforting, well, we can do that as well."
Wyatt slipped out of her grip smoothly, and motioned for the sisters to move on without them. "You two go on ahead. We'll catch up. I just want to talk to The Kid for a second."
Shrugging, the women turned and jogged down the path to The Sole Regret and out of sight, leaving the masons alone to talk.
Elsewhere, in the very bowels of The City, a clandestine meeting was taking place.
Secrets and plans were discussed in whispers over a crackling fire. A messenger burst into the room, sending cloaks aflutter.
"Sir! Sir! I have word from our inside source!" He cried, scurrying over to a large and prominent figure. The shadowed leader turned to the courier almost imperceptibly.
Taking this as a cue to speak, the messenger rushed his words.
"The Armoury mission was a failure, and our operative was captured, Sir! We are attempting to extract her as we speak, but we cannot be sure of the probability of success."
The mysterious character spoke in a low tone. "How did this happen?"
The messenger's voice wavered. "There was an… unexpected element. A young male who, from the reports of our operative, foiled the whole plan."
From beneath the cloak, the voice rose in volume. "What is his name? We must be rid of this annoyance."
Bringing a note out of his pocket, the courier read the writing aloud.
"Wyatt."
The two masons stood in the sunlight spilling across The Rippling Walls, taking in the livelihoods that they had saved.
Wyatt clapped The Kid on the back, chuckling. "You did it brother! You broke the rules!" He looked at The Kid, dubious. "I didn't think you could actually do it. You know, with you being a goody-two-shoes and all!"
Dodging a jab to the stomach, he only laughed even harder. "Trying to hit me? Disobeying orders? I think I might be rubbing off on you!" The Kid eyed him critically. "Yeah, I guess my bad influence did do some good in the end. Ridiculing a God… Damn, I wouldn't want to mess with you."
In what seemed to be a surprising streak this weekend, Wyatt was right once again.
No one would cross The Kid again, that's for sure. Even The Pantheon was afraid of him now, of what he could accomplish.
The Kid used to think that he was fated to meet some miserable end that The Gods had decided for him at his birth.
But now? Now he had wrestled control back into his own hands. He did what he wanted.
He was in command of his own destiny.
Wyatt stepped up to his side, and lent an arm on his shoulder. "You know Kid, limits, like fears, are often an illusion. You're going to do great things, and I'll be there every step of the way."
Holding out a hand for him to grasp, The Kid looked up at Wyatt in admiration. The man had taught him something valuable.
Brothers?
Wyatt winked, and grabbed The Kid's hand firmly.
"Till the very end."
"So you see, Zia, The Kid learnt that if he wanted to do something, he could. Nothing could stop him. If he wants to be commanding and imposing, he will, and if he wants to be calm and caring, he will. He doesn't need to stick to a single way of life like most people."
I pointed to the entrance of the Bastion with my cane. "And if he wants to return from his voyage into The Wilds, he will. Nothing will stop him from achieving his desire. No plant, no animal, and certainly no damn God."
Her eyes shining, Zia smiled widely at my reassurance. However, she had a question. "What about Mia and Jane's adventure? Can I hear about that?"
Stroking my moustache, I looked up at a movement at the edge of my vision.
"Maybe another time, Zia…" I replied, as an Ura man revealed himself from the tent opposite me.
Zulf.
Stepping into the firelight, the diplomat shuffled awkwardly. Twiddling his thumbs, he gestured to me in an attempt to divert attention. "I couldn't help but overhear your story…"
I waved to one of the many logs surrounding the campfire, and Zulf sat down gratefully. I held no ill-will towards the Ura. I may have been annoyed with him to start with, but hate is something that loses its appeal as you get older. Everybody makes mistakes.
Garmuth knows I've made my fair share.
Zia didn't seem to share my sentiment. She faced pointedly away from Zulf, a frown donning her face. She was probably still bitter from the man almost getting The Kid killed by arrows. Her judgement always was clouded when it came to that boy.
Zulf noticed this attitude, and focused his attention on me. "So, if all it takes is for The Kid to want something, what makes him want to come back here?"
Looking sideways at the young girl sitting next to me, a teasing grin slid onto my face. "Why, this fine young lady right here, right Zia?"
I forced her out of her brooding with a playful nudge in the side, causing her to look up at me with eyes narrowed.
"There's nothing he wants more than to see you again. You're what brings him home. The thought of you."
Rolling her eyes at my ribbing, she pushed at me lightly, blushing ferociously.
"It's not funny to joke, Rucks!" she pouted. "We both know he's more of a loner… The strong, silent type, you know!"
She brushed a lock of hair behind her ear in embarrassment while I shared a look of amusement with Zulf.
"And besides, he really only interacts with you, unless he's brought back a new animal companion." Realising that dismay had leaked into her admission, she attempted to save face.
"I mean, of course I'd like to interact with him more, but where would you even start a conversation with someone like him?"
She sagged, dejected. "Sometimes, I think he just tolerates me…"
I chortled at her inane rambling, clearing my throat to get her attention once more.
"Don't be so ridiculous, Zia. He's just shy. He likes you more than he could ever like me or Zulf. Let me tell you why."
I leaned over the fire, so that its light flickered across my face.
"Let me tell you how The Kid got his Bandanna."
Like always, favorite and review if you want to, i'm not going to force you, but i read every one, and it really motivates me to write more, so thanks if you decide to.
If I get a beta reader, I'll probably be quicker with updating, but I can't make any promises. I'll try my best, you have to trust me on that.
Also, I'm pretty sure I put a quote in there, but I don't know what it was, or who it was from, so if you know and find it, tell me and I'll mark it. I'm not a fan of plagiarizing.